Long auburn hair
Fingers picking, backhand
Bottleneck thrashing
Closer to the microphone
Swaying to and fro
Like a cat
Or a snake
Or a dream
I could forsake
But never forget
As the blues played on
In the way they never had
The blues played on
And of course, they made me sad
Smoking on the run
Calling up the muse
Open G I wondered
Open D it was
Peppermint smile
Like the rain
Or a refrain
Or a list of things
Left for another day
With no regrets
As the blues played on
In the way they never had
The blues played on
And, of course they made me sad
Photo by Ras Taparta from FreeImages
